XXXIII SONNET. Look how the flower which lingeringly doth fade, With swifter speed declines than erst it spread, And, blasted, scarce now shows what it hath been. Think on thy home, my soul, and think aright 5 10 William Drummond. XXXIV Alexis, here she stayed; among these pines, Sweet hermitress, she did alone repair; Here did she spread the treasure of her hair, More rich than that brought from the Colchian mines. She sat her by these muskèd eglantines, The happy place the print seems yet to bear; Her voice did sweeten here thy sugared lines, 5 To which winds, trees, beasts, birds did lend an ear. William Drummond. XXXV SONNET. Sweet spring, thou turn'st with all thy goodly train, The clouds for joy in pearls weep down their showers, Do with thee come, which turn my sweets to sours. But she, whose breath embalmed thy wholesome air, ΙΟ William Drummond. XXXVI SONNET. Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part- Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath, D 5 IO Michael Drayton. A XXXVII A SAD SONG. Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan, Gentlest fair, mourn, mourn no moe. XXXVIII 5 ΙΟ Beaumont and Fletcher. INVOCATION TO SLEEP. Come, Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving Let some pleasing dreams beguile I may feel an influence, All my powers of care bereaving! Though but a shadow, but a sliding, We that suffer long annoy Through an idle fancy wrought : Oh, let my joys have some abiding! Beaumont and Fletcher. 5 ΙΟ THE SHEPHERD'S PRAISE OF HIS SACRED DIANA. Praised be Diana's fair and harmless light, Praised be the dews, wherewith she moists the ground: Praised be her beams, the glory of the night, Praised be her power, by which all powers abound. 6 Praised be her nymphs, with whom she decks the woods, In heaven Queen she is among the spheres, She, mistress like, makes all things to be pure; Eternity in her oft change she bears, She beauty is, by her the fair endure. Time wears her not, she doth his chariot guide, By her the virtue of the stars down slide, 10 15 Anon. XLI TRUE GROWTH. It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make men better be; Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. XLII THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT. Fair stood the wind for France But putting to the main, And taking many a fort, In happy hour; With those that stopped his way, With all his power. ΙΟ Ben Jonson. 5 |